“You have to earn it not with words but with actions. You have to prove to me over months maybe years that you have truly changed.”
“How?”
“By working honestly. By living honestly, by respecting my decisions even if you don’t like them. By treating me like a whole human being, not like an old woman who needs to be cared for.”
“And if I do all that, if you do all that, maybe someday we can be friends. But we will never go back to being the mother and son we were before. That relationship died the day you decided to betray me.”
He was quiet for a long time. Finally, he nodded.
“I understand and I accept those conditions.”
“Good. Then you can start by staying for dinner, but then you leave. And if you want to come back, you let me know beforehand.”
“Thank you, Mom. You don’t know what this means to me.”
“Don’t call me mom yet. Call me Margaret. You have to earn the right to call me mom again.”
That night, the three of us had dinner in silence. David ate slowly as if it were the first home-cooked meal he’d had in months. It probably was.
When he finished, he helped me wash the dishes without being asked. Helen had gone to her house, leaving us alone.
“The food was delicious,” he told me. “Thank you.”
“Can I ask you something?”
“Ask.”
“Are you happy?”
